


Sagastuck

by Khanofallorcs



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1780450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khanofallorcs/pseuds/Khanofallorcs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gods are dead, the sun has stopped. The end of the world approaches for man and troll alike. When it all comes crashing down, what are you willing to do to survive? What would you die for? Who would you live for?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Inspired by The Banner Saga</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sagastuck

War is something that should not come as a surprise to any who live where the food is scarce, and the winter harsh. Only the sides change; with the coming of a greater foe even long-time enemies must band together, lest they fall and become but a forgotten footnote in some scholar’s dusty tome. 

Such was the Second War, where man and troll set their differences aside in order to survive the onslaught of the newest creation of the gods, the enigmatic and unnerving Carapacians, beings more insect than man, and as numerous as the leaves in a forest of oaks. Combined with their ruthlessness and seeming inability to get exhausted, they were a nightmare walking the face of the earth, bringing terror and destruction in their wake.

  
But they were not invincible, and after many years of war, and at the cost of an ocean of blood they were slowly being driven away, far from the pleasant lands of the south, where lay the proud kingdoms of man and troll. And into the barren uncharted wastes were the Carapacians pushed, where they became folktales and boogeymen to all but the trolls, for whom skirmishes in the wasteland became a rite of passage.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“When the black bugs come, the trolls stop fighting among themselves”, so declared every poster in the great troll capital of Alternia. The huddled figure on the outskirts of the wastelands a hundred miles away, however, knew different. He had fought that enemy before, slain quite a number of them too, but now, it is his own people that he has run away from. They were out for his blood.

  
He had committed no crime, save for the one which can get him killed on the spot: he was a mutant. Though all trolls come from the Mother Grub, their creator and patron, not all trolls are born equal. All trolls are born with expectations placed upon them: this one an foot soldier, that one a tender of the Mother Grub, the other one a queen. There is little place for aberrations or question marks in their society. And their solution is simple: a relentless and immediate culling. No appeals. No mercy. No exception.

  
He was well aware that once word would get out that a mutant had been found, he would be hunted down without delay or respite. And so he tried to disappear into the massive blizzard coming from the far horizon, hoping that it would cover his tracks and slow down anyone sent to track him down. Perhaps they would not pursue him this far out and through such hellish weather. But he doubted it. He knew he would not be able to find his way back once he entered the blizzard, but he found that did not really care anymore.What lay beyond the snowstorm mattered little to him, for he had nowhere to go but onward, and nothing of value except for his life.

  
Although he slipped many times, he got up, with the desperation of a man living on borrowed time, which is exactly what he was. Unbeknownst to him, his pursuer was not far away. And she was deadly. Had the runaway turned to look back before vanishing into the mist he would have seen a lone shadow looming in the distance. Even from a hundred yards, and only the moon for illumination, he would have been able to see the fire-red glint that had been tailing him for the past few days.

  
Without a sound, she too disappeared after him into the white haze , head held high and weapon at the ready. Her every graceful movement promised bloodshed, and she always delivered.

 

 

 

  
Nearly three days later she came back to Alternia alone, with the head of her unfortunate victim in hand, to the echoing applause of the whole city. She laid it as an offering before the cheering crowd, and after asking for a few favors, left that very night, having lost faith in the laws and ideals that she had dedicated herself to upholding. But she had not lost her resolve: she would live, for him.


End file.
